What Money Does
by Dahliaaa
Summary: Ally, a fabulously wealthy woman with a love of music. Her father despises her wish to perform. He forces her pursue a career in law. One day, she goes missing and is held captive by an unusually attractive man. There is one, and only one, thing he wants from her.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Austin and Ally**_

* * *

The art of law; I loathe it. Barely an art, I guarantee. Yet, I am forced to devote to the appalling painting it is claimed to be. Why am I a part of this? Well why else? Father's order.

A rich family as wealthy as us would have shame brought upon a performer. That is what I yearn for, but Father is against it. He thinks the mere idea of singing and dancing upon a stage in front of hundreds of thousands of millions of people is degrading. No kin of his would dishonor the name he upholds. Dawson, that is.

The last time I began my persuasions; he laughed in my face and insulted my ideas. He mentions the infamy once more and exits the room.

The riches of our family come from a business my father shaped when I was only thirteen years old. Ever since then, Sonic Boom, the business, was literally booming. At first, the store was minimally popular. Then, lines formed, taking it across the entire Mall of Miami. Father was forced to open other stores because of the unexpected fame. Not that being forced impaired his superiority. Shops opening for commerce roamed through the states and passed onto other countries. Soon enough everyone was buying Sonic Boom items.

In time, his wallet was brimful with cash; his bank account heavy with funds. Life changed immensely after that. As odd as it may give the impression of, we became one of the wealthiest families in Miami. Nowadays, money is all he thirsts for.

The irony of it all begins with the effortless fact that Sonic Boom is filled with music. Music disgusts him. Something Father isn't very fond of, what he deems is utterly ruthless, is what leads him on a road to fortune.

As a student of Marino High school, my job was to give piano or any other instrument lessons one was fascinated in and work the cash register after school and on weekends. That was life up until I graduated. Father never employed anyone else. 'Wealth doesn't come from giving it away', he'd constantly say.

If truth be told, I only had one associate until my junior year.

Patricia. Better known as Trish. Ever since the year of our encounter at nursery school we were inseparable. We did all together to an extent that our parents had planned to tear us apart. Mother always claimed that Trish was the ghastly example of our friendship. 'Selfishness slithers through her soul.' She would tell me. But I knew Trish always meant well.

Her thunderous clothing set my mother off as well. My opinion differed. It's wild and loud and I liked it. 'Why won't she dress like a lady and not like the things we watch on Animal Planet?' My mother would whisper as Trish would walk by. It incensed me to see the judgment that scurried along the lines of my family.

After my junior year, the sudden raise in riches helped me in the gain of many friends. Or so I thought. Most of them were true. By most, I mean all excluding Trish. All they sought from me were the things I could buy and get for them. Greed. That is all I saw. Not one person liked me for me. Nobody will ever. Except Trish. However, in the closing stages, we drifted.

It all silently angers me. Credibility is lacked with the fact that I let myself do what I did to her. Position others before her. It is one of the many things I regret to this very day. I struggled with enhancing the friendship that was once so strong, but it was no exploit. She had moved on. It was my time to step away from the ache as well.

Even with the riches our family consists of, I am not blissful. I'm not whole. I understand that millions of people would die to have my life. They can have it. Because money isn't everything.

I don't smile in the middle of the night at reflection of everything being in its place. Instead of the smiles I crave, I put forward tears. I am a weak feeble human being. It angers me. Something very important is of absence in my life. I want it. But that mania cannot be bought nor sold. No matter the quantity of green that is offered.

I'm deskbound in the University of Florida. The art of law is what Father wants me to chase. But I owe much hate to it.

I wish to perform. Sing upon a stage where only a true legend is eligible of its stand. I hunger the recognition for doing what I love most. Hear the hymn each fan will chant, the echo of my name vibrating throughout the building. Possibly even causing the ground to shake. My pulse would race at the enthusiasm I am granted. Most importantly, I want to be proud of what I've become.

Once again, Father laughs. What a tease I am.

Father gave me a choice. Either I was to become a doctor or anything that falls under the medical field, or a lawyer. With the small detail that at the slightest sight of blood or the awareness of agony; I grow weak. If it's dire enough, I am robbed of my consciousness. That's why I don't watch horror films. I used the appalling graphics and how fake everything looks as a remorseful excuse to get out of watching any.

So Father settled with me pursuing _his dream _me of becoming a lawyer. I am going to shadow his wishes. Only for his sake. It is what he requests, so it is what will be given. My father has worked extremely hard for everything we have; it is the least of what I owe. I am in debt of him. This is merely my way of showing my gratitude and repaying his sympathy. I assume all those years of fathering were not trouble-free.

Though, what Father doesn't understand is that success is composed of hard work and dedication. I am unable to force myself to bestow a life of law. I don't wish to be a lawyer. I don't wish to put up with any of this. But I must. Keeping Father happy is what matters most.

* * *

I have no idea what's going on. What did Professor Canton just say? Was I supposed to be taking notes? What do I do if the defendant is guilty? It's my softmore year, I should already know that. I'm so stupid.

All I want now is to escape this cold bitter prison. Today's class has by far been the pits of hell in months. An exam is coming up so my professor thinks it is logical to ram every single detail of information in my brain. I might just explode. The headaches have begun to taunt me. I just want to return to my home and take a nice long warm bath. Hopefully some good will come out of that.

I find nothing in this confined room fascinating. Not a single person in this place has an attractive face. All impoliteness set aside, though it is truth.  
As if my grievance were a queue, the bell rings signaling all students to exit and do whatever the hell they wish. I hasten out of the building I hate so much. The heat involuntarily hits me. The month of May was not kind. Miami's heat was penetrating. It is pleasant whenever a gentle wind whispered upon my skin every so often.

No matter how much I abominate, the school was undeniably beautiful. Probably the most striking in all of Miami.

Promenading upon the fresh pavement was without a doubt my favorite part of it all. Palm trees aligned the asphalt road. The grass was the emerald of my eye. Students lied upon the pasture against the trees that granted their shade as they scrutinized for their upcoming assessments. I would usually do the same, yet today was an arduous day. All want is to relax. With any luck of tomorrow's lecture not being much of a cram, I'll give it an attempt.

The distance between my car and the academy was pretty vast. The lot had been full to capacity ever since the morning. I had no choice but to park in the far back.

I step onto the lot and feel wintry sensations stealth down my neck. Almost as if a pair of eyes had been monitoring my route. Nonetheless, I ignore the most likely false judgment and continue on my search for my vehicle.

After a lengthy time of hunting, I find my car in a deserted area. Everyone that parked their cars here earlier had already gone. That seemed odd. I hasten to it and begin ruffling through my purse for my keys. As I do so, the sentiment returns.

The sound of heavy breathing jolted me. My eyes creep up from the bag to the window of my car. In the glass a figure in all black stood. The reflection grows clear. It's a person. A smirk skulks on the man's masked face. I gasp as the man lifts his arm up. Then everything goes black.

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**I'm back! I've really missed you guys! Please enjoy this story, I really hope you liked it. Review and share to your friends. Auslly is amazing, pass it on!  
ANYWAY; I probably won't be posting as often as I did in the past. I'm a freshman and the work load differs completely from middle school. Especially because I am taking AP classes. There is a lot more. I am much busier, but I will try to write everyday! Hopefully there will be at least one each week.  
Anyway, bye my lovelies. 3  
REVIEW, FAVORITE,FOLLOW!**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Austin & Ally_**

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I awaken in complete utter darkness. Not a single sight or sound is in existence. My head pounds like a thousand drums. What happened? Where am I?  
The smell of dust toils through my nostrils. I aim to stand but find myself powerless. My body had been strapped down to some wooden chair. The ropes binding restricted my arms and legs, yet it feels that I am stripped of the air in my lungs. I couldn't think straight; a cat without its whiskers. I thrash about violently attempting my release.

"Struggling won't set you free." A voice says with a laughing mockery over-flooding his voice.

I remain silent secretly fearing the anonymous person on the opposite side of the scope. My breathing intensifies as if I were running many miles in a marathon. Suddenly, a dim light flickers over my head. I take a short glance at it. When I return my gaze, I am hoisted off guard a masked man towering over me. He must be no less than six feet tall.

He was wearing all black. A black ski mask that was obviously over used, at least, by each sloppy stitch by hand had made it appear that way. His light black v-nick sweatshirt clings to his body lifting up slightly enough to reveal his boxer line. Black bicker gloves that detain many minuscule holes. Black skinny jeans that fit the mysterious man ever so perfectly. The black tattered converse that appear to have been walked in for what looks like millions of miles. His clothing did not don a single color. Everything was black, black, and more black.

I gasp as he chuckles.

"Allyson, Allyson, Allyson, your innocence amuses me." The man laughs.

"How do you know my name?" I ask with a tone of voice trembling from terror.

"I do my research." He replies plainly.

"What do you want from me?"

He leans closely to me giving me a strange feeling; almost pleasant.

"What every man wants." He says seductively in my ear. He tenderly caresses my cheek and I flinch at his touch. I feel his breathing wrap around my lobes. My heart involuntarily beings to race faster than the previous rate. "Money." He concludes.

"What does that have to do with me?" I gulp down my strength.

"Damn, you're oblivious. Your 'daddy' is filthy rich, did you not know that when you moved into that mansion in Miami?" He says distancing away annoyed.

"So you want me to give you money?"

"Twenty million dollars." He demands.

"Twenty million dollars?" I exclaim.

"You're right, that is a bit too extreme. Twenty-five million."

"I can't just hand that kind of money over to you."

"You can if you ever want to see the sunlight again." A smirk prowls over.

My trembling exaggerates. I didn't have that kind of money. Did Father? I never was told how much we really had. It was understood that we were if he didn't have what was asked? Would I merely rot in this room never to reunite with my family ever again? Never to grow beside a lover? Never to have a little me running around the house begging me to take them to the park? Never to grow into a head piled with gray hairs? Never to accomplish what Father wanted me to do? Better yet, never to prove him wrong.

"Why are you scared? If your daddy loves you, he'll give me what I want." He sneers.

"I'm not scared of you." I snap with sudden boldness.  
As if my words were a queue, the masked man draws a knife out of his back pocket and plunks it to my neck. A defeated scream slips out from my vulnerable lips. He austerely laughs eradicating the knife from my throat and stuffing it back into this pocket. I shamefully turn my stare to my shoes.

"Who are you?" I mumble in trounce.

"I can't tell you that." He says. "I'll be back."

The man turns around and begins his depart.

"Wait!" I shout.

Stopping in his tracks, he turns and looks at me befuddled.

"Did… Did you do anything to me?" I ask nervously of the answer I awaited.

He takes a step closer to me and simpers.

"If I did, you would've felt it." He laughs and walks away disappearing into the darkness.

The resonance of a staircase whining begins its cry. For a mere second, light deluges the room as the door rouses. He exits slamming the door behind him causing me to jerk at the reverberation. Only leaving me to the isolation of complete darkness except for the dim light that flickers above my head.  
Damn it.

* * *

The door opens giving permission to light to dispense itself into the sinister room. The masked man enters with a tray in his hands.

He ambles down the stairs and lets the door shut behind him. Once he is standing before me, he sets the tray, with what seemed to be a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and some type of beverage, on the ground and kneels as he unties my wrists from the chair. Then my ankles, then my waist.

As he unknots around my hips, his hand strokes me unintentionally shooting countless shocks of electricity through my delicate body. Is that fear or attraction? That's ridiculous. I don't even know what he looks like. He could be hideous for all I know. But that's ludicrous, to judge a person on their outer shell and not their inner. Well from what I know, a vital characteristic of this unexplained man is that he's a kidnapper. That just about sums my feelings. Vile.

The ropes batter the floor. He steps aside revealing the food.

"Here, eat." He commands pointing to the amateur prepared meal.

"No." I snap.

"Fine. Starve, I don't care." He says revolving.

I stand with unanticipated bravery. With the limited courage I attained, I clutch the unusually heavy tray and slam it onto the back of the masked man's head. The food, as well as he, falls down with a _thump_.

I would've darted directly to the egress, but curiosity held constant control of my actions. I kneel towards the fallen captor. Staring at his limp body that had been face down, I reconsider what I was about to do.

I commit to my risk. I rip the ski mask off of the man's face. Quickly, I chuck it to the side and watch it as it slides across the floor, disappearing into the darkness. My focus returns to the man.

His hair was a tousled bleach color with marginal hints of brown peeking out from behind his ears. Obviously artificial, yet decent. It wasn't excessively short, yet it wasn't extremely long. It was just about perfect. I lift his head up by his locks and flip him over slightly merely to retrieve a view of his undefined appearance.

His face reminded me of a toddler's, sculpted to perfection cleanly to give that give the illusion of liveliness and innocence. False innocence, that is. Though, chiseled into that playful face, held serious business air to it, like he had no intention of being taken for a child. His eyebrows were prominent, rising up and above his eyes, and his lashes were short but full.

His lips were a blossom pink shade. His bottom being plumper than his top. They were shaped almost as if they were meant for only one other person. One person. Like a key. Not just anyone could unlock him.

Mesmerized, I lay my finger upon his plump lower lip. It was soft. What if I held that key? I leaned in closer. Could I be the rightful owner? It would be terrible to dispose of my curiosity before using it. Just before my lips approached his, his mouth twitches causing me to jolt back into reality.

I had to get out of here. That was priority. Escaping this dungeon of greed.

I arise from the ground abandoning the kidnapper. I scurry up the stairs realizing that this was my one chance at freedom. As my right foot hit the final step, I stretch my arms out with my palms facing the door, shoving and tackling like some sort of football player would to an opponent when he neared victory.

Nothing. It didn't budge. No matter the force I pressed against, it wouldn't release me. Tears rain heavily down my cheeks. I am weak, that is why. A puny, frail, feeble, pathetic excuse for a human being.

My silent tears form into hushed sobs. I continue my shoves and thrusts against the door. No progress had been made.

I feel a cold bitter hand slip around my waist. It roughly heaves me into the owner's durable body. I shriek loudly. I attempt my autonomy from the black that drowns me back into my captive ways. I can't win this game. My opponent is the victor. Right then, I knew no there is no escape.

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**REVIEW, FOLLOW, FAVORITE  
****EDITOR CREDIT- WickedlyTwisted  
Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, I loved writing. More to come soon. I am actually thinking about writing a one shot. I have an idea, but I want your premission to do so.**


	3. Chapter 3

**_Disclaimer; I don't own Austin & Ally  
& I changed the name from The Kidnapping to What Money_ Does  
**

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Screams and curses were the only things that escaped my lips. I kick and struggle as if my life depends on it; which in this case, it does.

The kidnapper only seized me tighter with every lash out I made. Without prior notice, He throws me over his shoulder, grunting from my petite body landing on him. Thinking I would have the capability of flinging a punch or two at his back, I find myself shoved onto the rough surface of the chair.

"No, no, no!" I whine.

I scream and thrust about as he ties my ankles to the legs of the wooden chair I dreaded.

He doesn't say a word. He continues tying me back to the prison I was once trapped in. After my ankles were my wrists. After my wrists was my waist. Once he makes sure the knots are strong enough, he leaves without even looking at me. He simply walks away back to the door.

The kidnapper unleashes it and within the luminosity, I notice his glance at me. With no alter in expression, he turns away and slaps the switch causing the light above my head to retire. Then he exits and lets the door fasten behind him robbing what was left of the light. Then all was returned to darkness.

* * *

I am abruptly awoken. Bangs and thumps were formed from above me. I listen to the yells of wrath. Though I couldn't make out the words, I understood rage.

The shouts grew louder as did the anger.

The door suddenly bursts open. The man enters the room flipping the light switch on furiously. He slams the door in ire. He goads himself upon the wall, heatedly running his fingers through his disheveled flaxen hair. He lets out a sigh of frustration as he slams his durable fist into steel door behind him, leaving a dent.

I jolt at the sight and sound of the cuff.

"What are you so angry about? You're not the one stuck in a chair." I say.

"Shut up." He barks.

"You have no reason to pretend that you're angrier than me." I continue.

"I said shut up!" He says walking down the steps with a threatening voice and clenching fists.

"Why, because I'm right?" I retort.

The man dashes over to me. His eyes filled with commemoration. He grabs my face with all the force.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" He roars wringing my cheeks.

My eyes broaden in distress. A tear rolls down my face unintentionally. I did not wish to reveal my weakness, yet it seeped out of my grasp.

"Say one more thing and watch what I'll do to you!" He threatens.

Fearing my safety, I birth silence. What was I thinking? This man is my kidnapper, not a bully from school. No, these were the true bullies, who beyond a doubt wanted to hurt me. Why did I think I could say something to an authoritarian?

The man releases my cheeks. A sigh of sorrow escapes him. To my surprise, he wipes away my single tear with his thumb. He steps back, and begins his route back up the stairs then gradually stops in his tracks as if he forgot an important something.

"If I untie you, will you try to escape again?" He asks."

"I am never going to give up." I promise.

"There is a bathroom down here with a shower and everything; I know you need to go." He explains. "If I untie you and you don't try to escape, I'll buy you whatever you want to eat."

"Why?"

"I can't let you to leave."

"Why?"

"What do you mean why? I already told you."

"No. I mean why are you being nice to me? Aren't I your captive?"

"Look, Allyson. I can't tell you anything. Just understand that you can't leave. It isn't my decision!" He quickly plasters his mouth indicating that what he said was unpremeditated.

"Then whose choice is it?" I ask raising my voice slightly.

"Do you want me to untie you or not?"He snaps.

I look up at him and nod my head hastily. He comes closer. For the first time, his lips curve into a smile. Not a smirk, not a sneer, nor a simper, but a genuine smile. It lasted merely a second, but it was the best second I've experienced since I've been here.

He slowly unties the knots. Once he is finished, he begins a departure.

"Why aren't you wearing a mask?" I ask.

He simply looks back and flashes an authentic smile. He did it again.

"What's the point? You already know what I look like."

Then he leaves. Just like that. But I am free. Not free to flee, I wish, but free to roam.

I quickly stand and walk about the place, planning to discover as much as I could. Perhaps find an escape route. Thinking about that gives me an odd feeling. Almost as if I didn't want to run off. That's crazy. All of this is fanatical! I have to leave, before I go mad. But before I could do anything, I wanted to use the bathroom.

* * *

Beside the door is a ghastly grubby toilet. In front of that was a malevolent steel sink. Above that was a grime infested mirror with cracks running across its form. The shower is placed in the left corner of the space tainted with visible germs. The entire restroom was soiled. The walls were a rotten gray shade. I was glad that that was over with.

I will freshen up another time. When I have the appropriate products, that is. A towel, soap, perhaps even a comb would be superb.

I'll ask that stranger when he returns once again. I wonder what his name is… It is tiring referring to him as a kidnapper. That lowers my self confidence a bit. Well actually, a great deal. I constantly thought of myself as a strong woman. That is, before any of this occurred. Strong women usually aren't held captive.  
I know now for certain. I am weak and worthless. I am not brave, nor am I sturdy. A small blow to my face would easily knock me down. My intellect hangs its head low in indiscernible shame. I may appear to be an owner of elegancy, but I am just as ruthless as any other human being with a dream they aren't allowed to accomplish.

* * *

**FOLLOW, FAVORITE, REVIEW  
I read every single one!  
I am going to be releasing a one-shot soon. Look forward to that!  
Anyway, I changed the name. I just wasn't feeling the other one.**


	4. Chapter 4

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Austin & Ally. I would be sitting on a stack of gold at the moment if I did._**

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I'm not sure how many days passed by. Whether it could have been merely a few days, a few weeks, or maybe even a month. It's funny, first my hope was lost, and then time. It's like the hands on the invisible clock forever held my life in its hands. Every stroke at twelve let the clock take a bite out of me.

Eventually, I would be eaten alive. A yellow light constantly flickers on and off, in a repeating pattern, beyond my eyes. The strange and reclusive man doesn't bother replacing it.

All I know is that it's been quite a while since I've seen a sun rise or set.

I have never missed home so much. I even miss school. I would rather be trapped in a terribly mind-numbing classroom then this place. I always dreamed of being the girl who escaped her prearranged system into a land of unknown. But now that I have, that _wonderland_ I once pictured somehow got warped along the way. The house with the striking garden and the familiar welcoming feeling now became the bitter, dark, and musty palace of the basement. And I hate it.  
I wonder what Father and Mother must be thinking. Are they even looking for me? Are they scared? Are they angry? Are they happy? Are they even thinking of me? The questions that flood my mind begin to eat away at what was left of my strength. So many tears trickle down my soft face.

I crouched in the left corner of the room. My face is buried in my knees as I shake vigorously. The trembling increased as more and more thoughts invaded my mentality.

If they really cared, I would be home right now. They would've found me. There are only so many places I could be. What kind of work could be more important than having their daughter safe in their arms' reach? I just don't understand why I'm here.

"Why the hell are you crying?"

I jolt at the sound of the man's voice. I quickly wipe my tears away and look up.

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't play stupid with me." He says strengthening his voice.

"I'm not." I deny.

"Whatever, it's not like I give a shit anyway." He says standing causing him to tower over me like a skyscraper.

I just stare up at him. How could someone be so mean? He aggravates me to a certain level that I can't even describe. The man turns his head to his left and bites his bottom lip. Then, he turns his vision back to me. Reaching his callused hands out, signaling me to grab on.

With much hesitation, I let my hands handle his arms. He pulls me up before I'm ready. I collide into his hard chest. But, it didn't hurt. It wasn't disturbing at all. It was almost… pleasant.

My vision travels up to his chestnut eyes. I couldn't help but gape. They were so beautiful. The big sable eyes, mottled like varnished cork, stared back into mine. They remind me of winter trees at twilight.

Still arm in arm, we entrap ourselves in a warm allure. With every second that lapses by, the warmth fosters. I struggle pulling my state of mind out from under his firm grasp, but I couldn't get myself to do it. It felt so right to be this close to him. Like I had the key…

So much sincerity is presented within his eyes. I want to believe so badly that it is true.

My breathing intensifies as he gets a tighter grip of my arm, gradually pulling me in closer. Then he stops, as well does the sincerity that burdened his eyes. The left side of his faint red lips tug upward. Forming a sinister smirk on his angel like face; casting a spell of lust to eyes that dare look his way. The emotion I felt, vanished like the first snow flake of a storm.

He shoves me aside like child would to a plate of vegetables. His simper augments.

"You stupid little girl." He scoffs.

By this point, all I could feel was the hate that burns in my heart with a bottomless anger, that it is ingrained in the tissue. But all I can do is own a sturdy clutch on my silence.

"You're pathetic." He adds.

I don't say a word or utter a sound. I drop my head in shame, trying my best to ignore whatever the man had left to say. But I fail.

"You're an attention seeking little bitch; a weak one. Finally, for once in your perfect little life, something isn't going the way you want. So you sit and cry about it." He says as my fingers clench up into fists and tears well in my eyes. "No wonder your parents haven't found you yet. They aren't even looking for you." He continues. "They don't want you. I would pity you, but there's no need. You deserve everything. You're just a dumb little rich girl-" Rigid with the fury that had been building up inside of me, I raise my hand in the air.

How dare he say that to me? What have I ever done that is so cruel to deserve any of this? I didn't choose to be wealthy. I didn't ask for this life. I didn't want any of this to be handed to me. I wanted to earn it with hard work and dedication. I wanted to be successful doing what I wanted to do. It's not fair that I am criticized for any of this. He doesn't even know who I am to be speaking to me that way.

My control was of absence. I slap the man across the face. As my fingers connect with his cheek, I find myself unable to escape the pit of regret.  
Once the damage is done, he slowly returns his head back to face mine. He rubs his hand gently on the spot where I hit him. Our eyes lock. A rush of fear mesmerizes me. Black mist swirled at the edges of my mind.

He presses his lips together and drops his hand.

"I guess I was wrong." He states.

My mentality was sent reeling, unable to comprehend or process the images it was being sent by my eyes. He smiles, but I can't recognize if it's false or not. He walks away as if I never touched him. At the door, he opens it slightly. Then he turns to me and smirks.

"Next time, you'll lose those hands."

And just like that, he leaves.

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**What did you guys think? TELL ME IN YOUR REVIEWS. I LOVE THAT.**

Anyway, sorry for the 'short' chapter. Next chapter will be exciting, I PROMISE. I have some big things in plan. They will surprise, I hope.  


**But the reason why I can't update as frequently as I did with _Make It Through Whatever_ becauseI am much busier. I had a D in math, BUT NOWS ITS A C. And an A in everything else, that is hard to maintain, so I don't write as often. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNDDDDDDDDDDDDD my editor has been busy all week, so that took some time. I am really sorry about that and I'm even more sorry that I can't promise that this won't happen again! AGH. I LOVE YOU GUYS. YOU ARE MY EVERYTHING. Without you, my life would suck. **

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	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer; I do not own Austin & Ally or The Great Gatsby**_

* * *

He's back again. What does he want from me now? Is he here to award me another punishment with a smile casing his face? Perhaps no food or maybe raise the price for my release. Not that it would matter anyway. Father isn't even trying to get me back home safe in his arms. No. What makes me think he will be the knight in shining armor to rescue me to begin with? All the possibilities and risks he should have thought over, what a fool. Father is filthy rich. He has many ways to find me. He just doesn't want me back, and I don't care anymore. But that's not true.

The man walks towards me as I stand in the middle of the room, with my right hand having a strong hold of my left shoulder. He doesn't mutter a word. He casually makes his appearance. Seconds pass by while we provide ourselves with a gauche eye contact.

"So… I got this new movie…" He says.

"Yeah?" I say uninterested.

"Yeah, _The Great Gatsby__._ I know how much you love Leonardo DiCaprio. And I was thinking-"

"Wait! How exactly do you know about my love for DiCaprio?" I cut him off.

"Sweetie, who doesn't? In the 7th grade, you sat in computer class staring at his pictures on Google while an assignment was taking part." He says bringing my eyes to widen with every word that drains his memory.

"How-"

"I do my research." He interrupts flipping his hand upward majestically. "Anyway, do you want to watch it with me?" He asks staring at his shoes.

"Why would I want to do anything with you?" I snap.

"Fine, fine." He throws his hands in defeat, walking away. "I'll watch Leonardo deliver his lines free of stutter all by myself. I'll hear his voice and watch his… magnificence? I'll get to enjoy the best actor's performance, and you'll sit here by yourself and be sad." He says as I raise my eyebrows.  
He gets to the door. I can't help but stop him from leaving.

"Wait!"

He stands still. A smirk augments from the corner of his face. I didn't care. I couldn't give up this opportunity. I missed watching Leonardo's movies, any movies in fact. Father deprived me of my freedom a long time ago. My life's focus was success in law. He forced me to stay home and only escape the walls of my bedroom for school or dinner.

I remember. I would sit in silence at the dinner table, listening to the forks clack against the fine china. My hatred for loss of autonomy was like a fire burning within me, begging to be put out. But with every clack in the silence, the fire grew and grew, until the entire forest was lit up.

"I'll watch it with you!"I shout.

He turns around and he seldom smiles with his lips, but it is his sable brown eyes that shine instead, and it is this radiance that makes every human being who saw it feel the enticing impulse to smile, as well, for this smiling of the eyes is the most sincere and pure emotion that I have ever felt.

* * *

I exit the basement for the first time. The clear atmosphere gently caresses my lungs. Cool upland air floods in through the open window beside the heavily chained door. A great dazzle of sunlight shone through the open window, making my world just that much brighter. It had been so long since I'd seen it.

He walks me to the couch. The sofa had certainly seen better days. The battered floral design was worn thin in places but not quite to the summit of ripping. The soft maroon piping fabric around the cushions had the beginnings of fraying.

"I'll bring the popcorn." He states as he disappears into another room that I assume is the kitchen.

I cautiously take a seat. Moments later, a bowl of pop corn is handed to me. The man plops himself next to me, leaving almost no space in between us. I don't say a word. I don't even scoot away. Almost as if the feeling… is pleasant. Remote in hand, the television turns on. A few clicks later and the contents of the movie are before us.

"You ready?" He asks.

Suddenly, a rush of excitement sprints throughout my body. I was actually going to do something fun.

"Yes!" I say enthusiastically.

"Good." He tells me.

A few more clicks and the movie starts.

"You know, I read the book, but I've never seen this." The man says reaching his hand into the bowl and pulling out a handful of popcorn.

"Same here." I say smiling.

He looks at me. Our eyes lock and the weirdest feeling overcame me. I felt… safe. Crazy.

The screen starts off black. Like an antique movie. Leisurely, color dispenses its self into the classic design and the music begins to play louder.

"In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since." The movie played.

I stick my hand into the bowl. Our fingers collide, almost intertwining. Shocks shoot through my body and I cannot fight back the urge of shifting my head to face him. We gaze and the movie merely becomes background noise.

* * *

"I'm glad it's a girl. And I hope she'll be a fool– that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool." Daisy said as the movie continued.  
That had to be my favorite line of the entire story. It is true. Being naïve is the nicest feeling when you don't know that you are. Believing amazing lies drenched in beauty; falling for all the wrong things. I could relate so much that.

The man reaches into the bowl and pulls out the last of the popcorn. With all of his focus imprisoned within the film, he tells me to go make more. I stand and proceed to the kitchen.

Immediately, my nose wrinkles in disgust. I was so used to sleek, professionally designed, bespoke granite counters and stainless steel appliances. It was normal only seeing and breathing cleanliness. This place changed my perspective. Dirty plates and bowls stack on top of each other sloppily not only in the sink, but about the counter tops. This created an even bigger illusion of lewdness.

I ignore the mess and began my hunt through the cabinets. One by one, as I open the cupboards, I find nothing but dust and a few plates consisting of chipped edges. To my left I see a closet door and assume that was lies behind it is the popcorn I am searching for. I turn the knob, gradually pulling the door open.

I am struck by a weak heat that inserts from the outside.

"I really thought you wouldn't try this." I jolt from the voice that came from behind me.

"What?" I say obliviously, facing the man.

He stomps towards me and slams the door shut violently. He leaves his hand on the door, leading to his tower over me, making him that much more frightening. But I overcame fear a long time ago.

"I invite you to come upstairs and get away from the basement with so much kindness. And this is what you do to me?" He says with a blinding anger.

"I wasn't trying to leave! I thought that-" I attempt to convince.

"I hate liars. You know, a dead body is just as good as a runaway."

Every word that escaped his lips, made me want it all to end, in more ways than one. Soon enough, I came to the conclusion that I surrender...

"Then kill me." I say flatly with th  
e littlest of emotion.

With little hesitation, the man swipes out his knife and holds it to my neck, wrapping his hand that was on the door, around my shoulders, akin to the first time we met. The time when he still wore the mask and all black clothing, concealing his appearance. As if it made any difference.

"Do it!" I scream. "Kill me!"

His grip on the knife tightens as well as the hand that grasped my shoulder. I look into his sinister eyes. And for a moment, the evil I once saw vanished like a ghost exposed to light. His mad frown alleviates to a sad glower. Suddenly, he releases all grips and the knife descends to the floor and releases me.  
The man steps back. His stare overruled by the tile flooring beneath us.

"Go." He says in a light tone of voice.

I don't move.

"Leave!" He says with the tone intensifies.

Then I do as I am told. Just like that, I am free. But why didn't I want to go?

* * *

**If you knew me in real life, you****'d know that I love Leonardo DiCaprio more than his own parents.  
****Anyway, Thanks for reading guys. CAN'T BELIEVE I GOT 80 REVIEWS ON A FOUR CHAPTER STORY! I LOVE YOU. Please keep up my happiness, continue with the reviews, I love to hear your ideas.  
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